


October Expand-a-thon

by RubyMagnolia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ass Inflation, Body Inflation, Breast Inflation, Burping, Butt Plugs, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Floating - Freeform, Gen, Inflation, M/M, Weight Gain, belly inflation, blueberry inflation, liquid inflation, magical mishaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyMagnolia/pseuds/RubyMagnolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter is a 500 word or less inflation/expansion smut ficlet based off prompts given by the kinkmeme. The person inflated will be marked with an I in the pairing. Weight gain is marked with WG</p><p>1: Missing Ingredient (Carver/I!Merrill)<br/>2: Blueberry and Cream (f!Trevelyan/I!Josephine)<br/>3: Water Girl (I!Aveline)<br/>4: Tipsy Pirate (Merrill/I!Isabela)<br/>5: Plump House Mage (Fenris/WG!Anders)<br/>6: Tenderly Hers (Donnic/WG!Aveline)<br/>7: To the Ceiling (f!Hawke/I!Isabela)<br/>8: Weight of Injury (Anders/WG!Fenris)<br/>9: Appreciation (m!Hawke/I!Anders)<br/>10: Bigger Girl (Aveline/I!Isabela)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing Ingredient (Carver/I!Merrill)

**Author's Note:**

> DA2 prompt list [here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15195.html?thread=59295579#t59295579)  
> DAI prompt list [here](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15060.html?thread=59295956#t59295956)
> 
> If you would like to prompt, please leave it at one of the two links above. If you have an Origins prompt, then leave a comment here and I'll see what I can do. As much as I loved Origins, the characterisation has faded in my mind.
> 
> I'm going to do my best to get through all of them.

Merrill's daintiness was only one of the things Carver loved about her. Her cleverness and sweetness were two other things. And her innocence in recognising the attraction that people had to her. Of course, she was wishing up to this, thanks to Isabela, but Carver found he didn't mind too much.

"Drat," said Merrill, lowering the potion bottle to the table. "I forgot an ingredient."

She licked her lips, and went back to her spell book to figure out what she was missing. It was supposed to be birth control, and the Keeper had made it many times for Merrill before, but the taste was different.

Carver sat patiently as she flipped through the pages.

"Will it hurt you?" he asked.

"No, but–"

Merrill put her hands to her stomach as it growled loudly. When she turned to fetch another book, Carver could see it had bloated.

"Merrill?"

"It's fine," she said, as she bent over at her bookshelf.

The pattern on her leggings shifted, and Carver felt a surge of concern as her thighs thickened, and her ass started to obscure more books as it bobbed about. When Merrill stood up, Carver could only stare at Merrill. Her lower half was flaring out, forming a pear shape.

Elves weren't supposed to get fat – at least, Carver had never seen a fat elf – but the plush-looking flesh that was forming on Merrill suited her. A plump little mage.

"Oh, that was fast," said Merrill, poking at her widened hips and thighs. "Not to worry."

Her waist was pushing out, the effect of whatever that potion was spreading through her body. Her fingers thickened, turning into chubby digits, her tunic rode up with her belly, and Carver bit back a gasp when Merrill's chest expanded, turning soft and cushiony.

Merrill didn't seem perturbed. Only irritated. She was mixing something together, her swiftness not impeded by her rapid change in size. When she went to her herb cupboard, Carver had to shove a hand onto his crotch, aroused by her waddle, even more aroused by the knowledge that she was still inflating.

Her cheeks were next, her face becoming rounder, lips plumping, and Carver wondered if she was as soft as she looked. Their first kiss had been quick and chaste, and Carver remembered the texture then, but this looked just as good.

Merrill's tunic split at the sides, her leggings stretching to their full capacity over her rear. She waddled back, quirked a smile at Carver, and dropped her herbs into the new brew.

"H-has it stopped?" asked Carver.

"Yes. You like this," she said, as if suddenly realising. "You're all red."

She corked her new potion, shook it, and put it down.

"The antidote can wait," she said, and took Carver by the hand, leading him to her bed.


	2. Blueberry and Cream (f!Trevelyan/I!Josephine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine is a blueberry and cream girl.
> 
> (Not a full body blueberry, just the belly this time)

Trevelyan was seated next to Josephine as always. Her favourite advisor had been stressed as of late. She was hoping to sneak Josephine away after dessert and have fun in her quarters.

But first, preparations. They had used the inflating dust before. It was always a surprise. Trevelyan remembered the last time, how her ass was Josephine's plaything. So when Josephine looked the other way, Trevelyan tipped the dust over Josephine's generous slice of blueberry pie, drizzled with cream.

Every food had a different reaction.

They would be upstairs and locked away before anything happened, thought Trevelyan, watching Josephine scrape up every last bit of pie, popping it into that perfect mouth of hers.

Except it didn't go to plan. Trevelyan kept trying to hint that they should retire but Josephine was in deep conversation with their guests.

Josephine paused, putting her hand to her belly, then kept talking. She hadn't noticed that it was fuller than bloat. Trevelyan bit her lip. They were going to have to ride it out. Josephine wouldn't want to rise with a swelling stomach (scandal!), but she could hide it behind the table if she pushed her chair in.

"Dear, I need to tell you something," hissed Trevelyan.

"Of course, sweetheart, one moment," said Josephine absently.

Subconsciously, Josephine's hands tugged at her sashes, trying to loosen them against her body. It wobbled, like there was something other than air filling her up. The air ones had always been firm, this seemed more like liquid.

Or juice.

Blueberry juice.

"Josephine. Belly," said Trevelyan.

This time Josephine noticed. She had the slightest widening to her eyes and she finally excused herself from the conversation. Trevelyan grabbed Josephine's hand and pulled her down before she could rise from the table.

"You're too late. You'll have to wait until this is over," said Trevelyan.

Josephine was about to say something when she bit her lip, slipping her hand down to her crotch, and shuddering.

"It feels fantastic," she whispered. "I thought I was simply horny–"

Trevelyan discreetly put her hand to Josephine's stomach and felt it slosh as she pressed on it. Josephine couldn't hold back her pleasure, drawing the attention of those around her, and then the rest of the hall as she orgasmed, belly filling up, and popping out of the bottom of her blouse.

They'd been caught. Josephine tried to flee but her legs were too wobbly, and she was surprised by the weight of her ripe belly sinking over her waistband.

It clattered onto her empty dessert dish by mistake – it was turning blue in front of everyone – but Josephine could hardly think, and fell back into her seat.

Josephine tried to pull her blouse down, but by this point nobody wanted to look away, giggling and chattering directed at Josephine's transformation. Red burnt across her cheeks.

"I did try to warn you," said Trevelyan.

Josephine went to reply, but her belly tingled, completing its colour change, sending a surge of pleasure through her. She clenched her legs, muffling her scream. Trevelyan managed to get Josephine out of the hall before her breasts filled up with thick, creamy milk, just like the pie.

It wasn't a complete disaster. Quite daring, thought the Fereldan nobles, and the next dinner Josephine and Trevelyan went to, they were serving blueberry pie and cream.


	3. Water Girl (I!Aveline)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full body liquid inflation. I picked Aveline.

How was she to know that it was a cursed stretch of water? Aveline wasn't a mage, she couldn't sense these things. She had just wanted a sip of fresh water and a nice clean off after fighting all day, and the day before.

She hadn't drunk anything since the cursed river, since her body had taken on the unique ability of sucking water from the air and retaining it in her body. So far Aveline had managed to sweat it all out, but the humidity in the air and distant crackle of thunder didn't bode well for her.

She put her hand to her water-filled belly, undoing another notch on her belt as it absorbed more fluid.

"Better find a place to camp," said Hawke, and they pitched their tents, Hawke casting a lightning spell to ward off the oncoming electricity.

The others looked at Aveline nervously. They had managed to avoid water for her sake, but what would a storm do? Hawke gave Aveline the biggest tent and crowded into the other tent with Anders and Varric.

Anders had a notebook out and was making observations, but he still hasn't cracked the curse yet, and Hawke was firmly not a healer, specialising in Force magic. That said, understanding the elements also helped to understand why Aveline was soaking up water.

The gentle patter of rain was anything but comforting as Aveline paced in her tent. She had taken off her armour, belts, and boots, not wanting to damage anything. It had an immediate effect, the moisture in the air being sucked into Aveline's body.

Her belly pushed out, a full, drum-like noise to it as she patted it. It was slow. So slow that she didn't notice the rest of her body starting to become a human reservoir. Aveline's loose trousers started to pull, her calves and thighs thicker. Her hips and ass too. Back and breasts, even her arms and her face.

Soon her shirt was being unbuttoned as her stomach size grew up. Aveline pushed on it, irritated, and felt the fluid shift downwards. Her trousers bulged, all of the fluid coming to rest in her body from the hips down.

It started to bucket down, the small gap between the two tents obscured. Aveline decided to close the flap on her tent. There was no point keeping it open if she couldn't see the others. Her thighs rubbed together as she walked to the flap, belly swelling again, the water rising from the bottom. And she jiggled. It felt like every part of her lower body was in motion.

No sooner had Aveline closed the flap, she felt her trousers split in the seat, her body becoming rounder, and bigger, shirt sliding up. It was alarming, but she told herself not to panic. Instead, she sat on the camp bed, nursing her body and wondering how big she was going to get.

At some point, she must have dozed off, for the next thing Aveline knew was that it was morning, and she could feel a blanket of some sort pressing around her hands and feet. She tried to roll over, but when she couldn't, Aveline's eyes snapped open.

She had filled the whole tent. She was certain she wasn't wearing any clothes, but her modesty was protected by the dry waxed cloth that clung to her round form, her head fortunately poking through the entrance. Anders and Hawke poked their heads out, and seeing that Aveline was awake, said, "Give us another few hours."


	4. Tipsy Pirate (Merrill/I!Isabela)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabela gets a bit too drunk before her date with Merrill.

It was a good night for drinking. The booze was cheap, she had plenty of coin, and Merrill was due to arrive at the tavern any moment now to celebrate their good haul together. Isabela hoped that Merrill would wear the pretty green dress they had found whilst galloping around the coast – it was simply darling and Merrill had the perfect form for the cut.

Isabela downed her cider, ordered another, and kept it at the side to wash out the taste of the local brew served up in a jug. She preferred rum, as that was what she gave her men when she was a captain, but there wasn't any left from last night's drinking. Never mind.

The beer was foul, but before Isabela knew it, she had drunk a jug and a half of it, well and truly drunk. It was an accident – Isabela had honestly meant to wait, but Merrill had taken longer than expected, and Isabela had intended to take them out to dinner.

Dinner. Dinner sinner. Dinner winner. Sinner dinner winner.

Isabela giggled, and drank from her jug, completely forgetting her resolve to wait for Merrill.

The cider was slipping down her throat when Merrill showed.

"Hello kitten," hiccuped Isabela. "You're late."

"I am terribly sorry but the dress confused me," said Merrill, gesturing to herself, one hand fluttering shyly.

Isabela nodded in appreciation. The criss-crossing fabric was tricky, especially with the buckles. But it sat skin tight until Merrill's hips, where it flared out in a shimmery, silken ripple.

"It was worth it," purred Isabela.

She burped, putting her hand to her belly. All that booze might not have been a good idea, as it felt tight as a drum.

"Isabela, your tummy–" began Merrill.

"I know," she giggled. "I look pregnant. You'd like me being pregnant."

Before Merrill could stop her, Isabela chugged the last of her beer, finishing her cider, and sliding off her chair.

"It's our child," said Isabela.

She grabbed Merrill's hands and put them to her booze-filled belly. It hung over the belts that were slung across Isabela's hips.

"I think you need some quiet time," said Merrill. Then, to the barman, "Can you send some snacks to her room?"

Somehow she wrangled the giggling, tipsy Isabela up the stairs to her room, and sat her on her bed. Isabela frowned.

"It hurts now."

"That'll be the bubbles making you fuller," said Merrill.

She sat next to Isabela and gently rubbed her tummy with a healing spell on her hand. Isabela burped, and her pain eased up.

"Keep burping," said Merrill.

"I can burp a rude song," Isabela said.

Merrill laughed.

"If it'll keep you burping. Not too hard, mind, or we'll need a bucket."

It was about breasts. And a man with two cocks. And there was rope involved? Merrill couldn't tell, rubbing Isabela's belly.

"Oh no, my baby is going away," said Isabela, patting her belly. "It's fine. I have you now."

It was still full, Merrill could hear the alcohol jostling inside Isabela's belly. The snacks arrived and they shared them, Isabela sobering up slightly now that she had food.

"I was going to take you somewhere fancy," she said.

Merrill patted Isabela's cheek.

"Tomorrow night. And I can wear the dress again," said Merrill.

"I'll wear the belly," said Isabela, chuckling.


	5. Plump House Mage (Fenris/WG!Anders)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris comes home to find Anders is becoming a plump house mage. He loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm a sucker for happy endings, Anders and Fenris escaped Kirkwall with a whole bunch of mages and mage allies and set up a magically hidden village in a valley somewhere away from all the war. Because I said so, and I like the aspect of Fenris learning to trust mages without his fears being ignored. Dude is still wary, but he's seen that the Circles aren't working, and oh my god this is too much information for a 500 word ficlet, I'll shut up.

Coming back to their cottage after a two month expedition to stop a slaver group in the mountains was exciting. Fenris nudged his horse onwards, into the little community he and Anders had built with escaped mages and their allies. The illusion charms went up behind him as he passed the guards, and he decided to canter the last of the trail to his home. It had been so long since he had seen Anders.

Fenris took care of his horse first, putting her out to graze and drink, and came though the back door, leaving his muddy boots in the alcove with the gardening shoes.

"Anders?" called Fenris.

Something smelt good.

"Fenris, you're home!"

Anders raced from the room that served as his office, and opened his arms for Fenris to fall into.

The changes to Anders' body were obvious, even before Fenris pushed himself against the mage to hug him. Anders was plush and soft, a stark difference to the bony ribcage and jutting hips he had left Anders with two months ago.

It was also the most arousing thing Fenris had seen and felt in a long time.

"You're getting to be a plump little house mage," he murmured, kissing Anders on the cheek, then nipping his ear.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," said Anders.

"Of course I did. I love it. You're being provided for," said Fenris, and he put a hand to Anders' waist, squeezing. "Amply."

They didn't waste much time after that, Fenris wanting to explore every single change, be fascinated by every extra notch Anders had loosened on his clothing. Fenris couldn't help but let his cock harden when he unbuttoned Anders' shirt, revealing a paunch and a soft curved chest. He kissed it, patting the belly as he moved onto Anders' trousers.

Anders was growing chubby. The trousers were tight, belly hanging over the belt, hips forming love handles. Even his ass was too big to fit, a slip of crack showing as Fenris rolled Anders over, and then back again. His thighs wobbled as his trousers were peeled off, his smalls covering his cock and not much else.

Fenris pulled Anders into his lap.

"You're beautiful," he murmured. "You look so healthy."

He kissed and stroked Anders' body, biting his favourite parts (which was everything), marking him with approval. When they eventually made love, Fenris took Anders' cock whilst facing him, pressing his toned belly to Anders' soft one, clutching at the pale thighs that supported him.

The next week was spent in bliss, Fenris taking every opportunity to caress or lick or otherwise touch Anders, hugging him from behind as Anders cooked, sitting together reading. He liked that their hips didn't collide painfully, that he could drape himself over Anders without being worried about the bones that pressed into him.

Then another letter arrived – shorter, a two week trip nearby to check the outer defenses of another mage community, clearing away some merchants that didn't seem like merchants.

"Stay safe," said Fenris when it came time for him to depart. "Don't overwork yourself in the clinic."

"I should be telling you to stay safe," said Anders.

Fenris laughed, and put his horse into a trot, waving goodbye and wondering how many more changes Anders would have in the time he was gone.


	6. Tenderly Hers (Donnic/WG!Aveline)

It wasn't really that much. Yes, she had some difficulties fitting into her tunics and trousers, but she still fit into her armour and that was all that mattered. Aveline was still strong, still fast.

But padded.

She rose early to dress. Donnic didn't need to see her flab, not so early in the morning. It had been a year since they had last had sex in the light. There was a lovely dress that she rarely wore, hanging next to her work clothes. Dark red silk, pinned and cut to accentuate the breasts and twist around the body.

Aveline shoved it aside. She didn't know why she was emotional about it. It wasn't like she wore dresses often.

She pulled on her trousers, sucking in her belly – it wasn't that big, it wasn't – and laced it up. High waisted, it rose over her belly and didn't hurt, but Aveline flushed angrily at how it stuck out. She pulled on a shirt and pretended not to notice how her cleavage was deeper.

And yet at work, she could only think of that garish red dress. It took all of Aveline's restraint not to abandon her work for the day and try it on. She recalled it had been too big when it had been given as a gift.

Donnic wasn't home when she returned. Exactly as she had planned, sending him off on a patrol that would keep him occupied for a few hours.

She washed first, then took out the dress and stared at it. It looked smaller than she remembered. Biting her lip, Aveline undid the lacings and stepped into the dress.

It slid up, and for a moment it was stuck, but Aveline loosened the lacings further and the dress was over her hips. It was tight, something she would never wear, and Aveline walked cautiously to the mirror.

She stifled a cry of disgust. The dress fit but Aveline felt like an overfilled sausage. Her hands flew to the lacings and tried to undo them, but somehow they had knotted up, and she was stuck.

At first she thought of cutting the lacings but the positioning meant that she might damage the dress, and she intended to sell it quick-smart. The only other option was to wait for Donnic to come home. So she did.

"Did I forget a special date?" asked Donnic when he came through the door.

"No," said Aveline, unhappily. "I'm stuck."

"Well that dress finally fits you," said Donnic. "You're beautiful."

"What? No it doesn't, I'm too big for it," said Aveline.

Donnic shook his head and kissed Aveline's bare shoulder. She pulled away.

"Are you so scared that you cannot recognise your beauty?" asked Donnic.

"It's not beauty, it's fat."

Donnic pursed his lips and grabbed Aveline's hand, leaving the lanterns lit and started to work on the knot that had Aveline stuck. He loosened the lacings to their full extent and the dress easily slipped away. He put it away before Aveline could throw it into the corner.

"See? You're not too big."

He held her face in his hands, and then slid them down the length of her body.

"You look wonderful."

Aveline refused to answer, sitting on the bed, arms crossed in an attempt to hide her body from him. Donnic unfolded her, making her lie down on the bed.

"Let me convince you."

"Blow out the lanterns," said Aveline.

Donnic kissed her freckled belly.

"No," he said firmly.

He kissed her thighs, hips, and waist. Aveline flushed, embarrassed, and Donnic stroked his wife's cheeks tenderly, hands on her shoulders to keep her pinned away from the lamps.

Slowly she relaxed into his caress, into his kisses and murmurs of her beauty. The extra weight felt less ungainly, more like protection and something cherished. When she kissed Donnic back, he smiled.

"See? I love you. I love your body. I love your mind. And I really loved you in that dress," he said. "So can we please leave the lanterns lit when we have sex? I missed seeing you."

"Okay," said Aveline, and she pulled him down to press against her.

It was a start.


	7. To the Ceiling (f!Hawke/I!Isabela)

"Hello, sweetheart," purred Isabela, wrapping her hands over Hawke's hips.

Hawke jumped and spun around. A potion was in her hand, in some sort of breakable container, and she pelted it at Isabela. Too close to dodge the potion, Isabela jumped backwards. Her shirt was soaked immediately, the liquid hitting Isabela right in the chest. 

Nothing happened as it would with Hawke's other potion-bags – they always had an immediate effect. Must've just been a water-bag.

"Oh no," said Hawke, realising who it had been to sneak up on her. "Isabela, you shouldn't do that!"

Hawke picked up a damp cloth and patted Isabela's shirt with it. The potion wasn't coming away, Isabela's skin absorbing it quicker than Hawke could react.

"Take off your shirt before you absorb any more of it," said Hawke.

"What was it?" asked Isabela curiously.

"A new potion I was working on and it wasn't ready yet," Hawke said, grabbing Isabela's shirt.

Before either of them could get it off, Isabela's shirt turned dry as her body absorbed the last of the potion.

"Oh no," whimpered Hawke.

All of a sudden, Isabela felt her chest become lighter. Her breasts looked fuller, perkier, though, and she touched them hesitantly. A ticklish feeling ran through her, and she pressed down on her breasts, then let go.

They sprung back into place, her shirt growing smaller. Tighter. Isabela realised her breasts were getting larger, and continuing to feel lighter with every passing second.

"I'll fix this, I promise," said Hawke, turning back to her workbench.

Isabela was too amused by the sudden growth to worry. If Hawke said she was going to fix it, then she would.

They didn't bounce as much, instead straining to push upwards. If they got big enough, would Isabela leave the ground?

At its limit, Isabela's shirt contained her ballooning chest that was three times their original size before ripping open. Isabela could feel herself lifting off, her feet brushing the floor.

"Shit!" said Hawke.

She grabbed a rope and tied it around Isabela's waist, and the other end to the securely bolted railing that she used to keep her towels on for the workshop.

"Does it hurt?" asked Hawke.

"No, it feels warm."

Hawke ran back to her workbench.

Isabela tried to wrap her hands around her breasts, but her fingertips barely touched, and her breasts started to round out further now that they were free of her shirt. She hummed, running her hands over the light, full skin. This was quite fun.

There was a surge of magic, and Isabela left the ground, breasts pulling her up until she bumped against the ceiling. It felt like they had stopped growing, but Isabela couldn't tell.

"So this is what it's like up in the sky. You've got some cobwebs up here," said Isabela.

Hawke, realising that Isabela wasn't taking any of this seriously, replied dryly, "I'll give you a duster and you can clean up while you're up there. It's a good thing I didn't get you on the ass otherwise you'd be upside down."

"Ooh, can we try that next?"


	8. Weight of Injury (Anders/WG!Fenris)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for the reverse of Plump House Mage.

It had happened rather quickly. Fenris had been injured in a battle, but it was too much to do all with magic, and Fenris' lyrium brands interfered as well. So he was given a cot near Anders' and kept to bed rest with rich food to encourage his body to heal.

Without anything to do beyond walking around the clinic when he felt well enough, Fenris' body reacted to the extra food by putting it on his body.

"Stop feeding me so much," said Fenris, near the end of his treatment. "I'm getting fat."

He was practising with his sword when he said this. Anders gave Fenris less food that night, if only to make sure the elf wasn't angry with him in the morning.

When Fenris refused to eat breakfast, Anders replied, "Your skills haven't declined, if that's what you're worried about. And I happen to think you look good anyway."

Fenris' lip curled in distaste. Anders sighed and took the untouched food to split among the other patients as a special second helping.

Anders couldn't stay annoyed at Fenris. Not with that cute belly that Fenris hid under his armour the day he was discharged from the clinic. The usually spiky Fenris looked cuddly, and Anders wished he could get anywhere near Fenris to show him how much he liked this new appearance.

But Fenris was being prickly and cranky, not even letting Anders kiss his cheek the last couple of weeks. He wanted nothing to do with Anders, it seemed.

So Anders waited for Fenris to come to him as he usually did on a Thursday night for their time together. When Fenris didn't show, then Anders allowed himself to be upset. If Fenris wouldn't come to him, then he'd go to Fenris.

Friday night, Anders closed the clinic early and slipped up to the manor.

"Go away," said Fenris through a crack in the door.

"You know what I want," said Anders.

"You won't want me when I'm undressed."

"Try me."

There was a moment of silence, and then the door opened. Anders slipped in.

Then he saw Fenris. His skintight clothing cupped the larger body perfectly, Anders pausing to admire and realising that Fenris was staring a good deal lower than Anders' face.

"You are aroused by my body?" he asked, confused.

"Even more so now," said Anders.

He moved forward, slowly closing the gap between them and waited for Fenris to act. It took a pause, a lick of Fenris' lips, before Fenris wrapped his arms around Anders.

Anders gasped as Fenris slammed their bodies together, practically carrying him upstairs to his bedroom. Unlike the rest of the manor, Fenris had bothered to clean up the room and so it was pleasantly cosy. When Anders was thrown onto the bed, he realised that Fenris was undressing him but carefully out of reach of Anders' hands.

No matter. Fenris' belly was being pulled down by gravity, making it look rounder, and when he leant forward to kiss Anders on the neck, Anders grabbed Fenris' trousers and slipped his hands inside the waistband to yank Fenris down. He shuddered in delight as he freed his hands and held Fenris close.

"I meant it when I said that I like this new body," said Anders.

Fenris wriggled, then sat up slightly, hips still firmly pinned down against Anders'. There was a flush across his dark cheeks.

"Danarius would be furious," said Fenris. "I am still angry with myself, if I am to be honest."

He pinched his side with one hand, wobbling his lovehandles on purpose. Anders swatted it away, rubbing the pinched skin.

"You're allowed to be angry. My interest in you doesn't change just because your body has," said Anders.

Now that Fenris was close, Anders massaged his shoulders, easing the elf down into a content puddle lying against him. The weight was comforting, the cushioning flesh familiar and loving. In a matter of minutes, Fenris was asleep, exhausted by stress and the lingering lethargy of illness and injury. Anders smiled and kissed Fenris on the forehead.


	9. Appreciation (m!Hawke/I!Anders)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' assets get an upgrade. Both he and Hawke are impressed.

As soon as he drank the potion he had designed to help Darktown residents be more than skin and bones, Anders knew he had done something wrong. The weight was supposed to be evenly distributed, a few inches here and there, but instead it went all to his rump.

Anders felt it pushing out, narrow chair getting fuller, thighs and hips evening the growth. His small, flat ass filled the seat of his trousers, and Anders was too shocked by the rapid expansion to do anything but clutch at his rounding ass.

He stood and examined himself in the small mirror he owned, trousers threatening to split. He unbuttoned himself, and there was a jerk from his behind as it continued to grow. When it stopped, Anders ran his hands over his hips and thighs, then prodding at his squishy new ass. It was perky, his body distinctly pear-shaped, and Anders tried to button himself up with no success.

His gait was different too. Anders found his hips swaying as he went to his wardrobe and picked out a pair of bigger trousers, peeling off his old ones, and finding that he barely fit this new pair. Coat off, it was obvious. Coat on, maybe nobody would notice until Anders made a new potion to even out the weight.

Turning in the mirror, Anders couldn't help but admire his rump.

Maybe he could keep it.

He had an idea, closing the clinic and slipping into Hawke's house from the secret passage.

•

"Andraste's ass," muttered Hawke.

Anders had come in and taken him to the bedroom without much preamble, which Hawke had been confused about until Anders took off his coat.

His large hands cupped Anders' ass, one cheek in each hand, squeezing it slightly. It was real. Anders moaned.

"It's still sensitive from the growth," Anders said.

"It's magnificent," said Hawke, his voice going deep and rough with desire.

"I thought so too. Which is why I brought it up here," said Anders, turning around to lean into Hawke's chest. "For you to appreciate."

Hawke picked Anders up and took him to bed. Hawke stripped first, naked before he started to unwrap Anders. He left Anders' smalls until last, rolling the mage onto his belly so Hawke could slide that too small piece of cloth from Anders' pretty, quivering flesh.

Anders cried out as Hawke smacked his ass lightly. He felt it jiggle, and grinned over his shoulder at Hawke.

"I didn't think you could grow to be more perfect," said Hawke.

He nipped each ass cheek before slicking up his fingers with lube. Anders sighed in contentment as the fingers entered him, feeling slightly tighter due to his growth. Hawke was always good to him, stretching him out before he put his cock in.

He jerked as the fingers went away. Then the press of Hawke's cock between his cheeks, a slight resistance and then a smooth slide in.

"Anders–" began Hawke, but he thrust his hips to finish whatever he'd started to say.

Anders moaned at the sensation, the head of Hawke's cock brushing against his prostate.

It didn't take long for them to finish, Anders gasping as Hawke's cum squirted into him, his own release spurred by the sensation. Hawke pulled out, but not before rummaging in his bedside table, taking out a small case and from it some sort of plug. Anders nodded when Hawke held it out in question, and let the plug be inserted.

Anders decided that he was going to abort finding an antidote for himself.


	10. Bigger Girl (Aveline/I!Isabela)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the disappearance. You all love inflating Isabela, though.

Isabela wasn't taking anything seriously. As usual. Even though she had walked into Aveline's office and sat herself down in a chair uninvited, and fiddled with an amulet that hung around her neck.

There wasn't much point in trying to kick the pirate out.

It was new (not that Aveline was paying attention! Ridiculous), but covered up in grime. It also possessed a potent magic inside of it, activated by Isabela lovingly caressing the dirt off the surface.

A tiny gasp and then a giggle alerted Aveline to mischief. Aveline glared at Isabela. Isabela stared innocently back.

Then it all happened so quickly that Aveline almost fell off her chair.

Isabela's ass literally doubled, then tripled in size, and when the pirate stood, the short tunic she wore no longer covered it, revealing a trim of lace on her underwear.

"What have you done?" said Aveline, unimpressed as Isabela turned on the spot, examining the new growth.

"Experimenting," said Isabela.

She let out a breathy moan as her thighs pressed together, flesh pushing out like a balloon.

"Experiment somewhere else," snapped Aveline.

Isabela's waist seemed tiny, and looked tinier still as there was another burst of magic, expanding her hips, the puffed flesh being cut into by Isabela's corset. She made no move to remove it and instead flaunted herself, rubbing her amulet gently.

This time her chest pressed out. The plunged cut to Isabela's tunic began to split downwards. Aveline had to admit to herself that there was something appealing about the exaggerated hourglass shape forming on Isabela's body.

"I like experimenting with you, big girl," Isabela purred, leaning over Aveline's desk.

Aveline took the chance to give the amulet a firm swipe with her thumbs, cleaning off the grime to reveal what appeared to be a very circular human.

"You're the big girl here," Aveline remarked.

A ripping sound made Isabela stumble back, her chest billowing out, revealing her breasts.

Isabela scrabbled for her corset around her swelling girth. It was tight, becoming tighter still as her inflated body tried to escape it.

It would be so easy to lean over and undo the laces for her, Aveline mused. Her thoughts were disrupted by Isabela turning more spherical down below, her scraps for small clothes straining over her globe-like buttocks and finally popping free. Isabela's tunic had long ridden up.

"Oh big girl," Isabela gasped. "I didn't realise you were so kinky."

Isabela looked like she was squirming, the right band of corset neatly dividing the still growing flesh. Her neck had disappeared into her body, and her arms and legs were slowly following.

Finally, the leather gave out. The creaking noise had put Aveline on edge, waiting for it to split, waiting for Isabela to turn fully spherical.

The laces snapped with a whip-like crack, and Isabela let out an orgasmic scream, leaving Aveline warmer between her legs than felt proper.

The rest of Isabela's tunic went flying. It had split into three pieces, scattered on the floor.

"You overdid it," Isabela complained.

"You like it," said Aveline.

"Because I had an audience."

Aveline stepped up to Isabela, dodging the useless flap of hands and feet before she examined the amulet still around Isabela's neck.

"At least this keeps you out of trouble, big girl" said Aveline.

She gave the amulet another swipe and let go, Isabela's hands and feet being absorbed into her body as she grew wide enough that her head brushed the top of Aveline's low ceiling.

**Author's Note:**

> As with all authors, I live for comments and feedback.


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